Chapter XLV

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Sleep now, my Muse! and henceforth take thy rest!
Which all too long thyself in vain hath wasted.
Let it suffice I still must live opprest;
And of my pains, the fruit must ne'er be tasted.
Then sleep, my Muse! "Fate cannot be withstood."
"It's better sleep; than wake, and do no good."